'Anatomically upsetting' were the words Jonathan used in description of this 'un, and, looking at the cover art of an impossibly-muscled barbarian type, it's horrifically clear how right he was. In fact, Swords and Sorcery is a definite addition to the ranks of the immortal Games Featuring Anatomically Challenged Characters, up there with such greats as International 3D Tennis, the original Legend of the Amazon Women, and, of course, Game Over (hem hem). Arf.
Well, errr, moving swiftly on to the game in hand... it's ever so slightly ancient, getting a review way back in ish two. (And it was two years late coming out even then - not promising, is it?) It did, however, introduce the 'awesome' (so awesome, in fact, it hasn't been seen since, heh heh) MIDAS software, which is, er, something to do with the 3D tunnel effect and cramming sprite graphics in, I think. Er. Anyway, it's basically the grand-daddy of games such as Bloodwych and the non-Speccy Dungeon Master - though of course it's much less complicated. The puzzles, quests and suchlike of the later games are missing here, making the whole thing basically a case of whether to talk to monsters or to chop them into warty slivers (which you almost always end up doing anyway). Ho Hum.
Anyway, everything (bar movement) is done with scrolling menus of commands - you know, Hit, Magic, Talk etc - which lead into other menus. It's easy to use but takes ruddy ages when you have to smash open a chest, take out every object in turn, pick all the objects up in turn, and so on. The best bit comes when you can actually get a beastie to talk before attacking you with something of substantial pointliness - you can indulge in bribes, threats, boasts and even some pretty chronic insults (try 'Death to the chopped-up slimy yellow zit' or even 'You slow sweet bottom-blast' - eerghh). Utter filth, I think you'll agree.
Well, that's about all the thing has to offer. If the other stuff in the genre like those mentioned above wibbled your particular cerebrum to a pleasant degree, you'll probably get your four quids' worth here, if you can keep in mind its age and treat it like the slightly senile, drivelling old goat it is. If you haven't got the time or patience to plough down past the surface, though, avoid it like a Bobby Davro charity appearance.
Welcome to the Hotel Silly. I'm your bellboy, Death, and this is your room. It's a deluxe suitette with luxury rugs and a selection of walls. If you need anything, just call. What? 50p tip? Right, I'll just have to deliver your soul beyond the great veil then.